Michael was nervous. He was more nervous then he had ever been walking into the club Public Dungeon. Logging on to check his mail was more of an ordeal then he thought it would be after that conversation with Johnathan Winters a few days ago. Michael had been avoiding the site and pretty much all computer activities for the last two days. Now, a day until his deadline, Michael had to work. He envisioned some random person on the street greeting him by his screen name and talking about everything he had been writing.
Michael had to admit, the fears were not the primary reason that he was avoiding the site or the computer. It was the temptation to contact Winters and inquire about the friend that he had told Michael about. Michael had been frustrated with the single life. Dating was going poorly for him. It didn't help matters that he felt like he had to hide major portions of his sexuality even more. Latex fetish and his desire to be some man's houseboy just wasn't something you talked about with someone on your first date. Or after the first week of dating, not that things even went for that long usually.
Michael sat down at the computer and looked at his coffee mug. He had been drinking Irish coffee with Jamacian coffee for a little while now. He wasn't sure if it was the Jameson kicking in or if he was just at a point where he no longer cared. For a moment, the pall of anxiety lifted and Michael clicked over from his mail client to the fetish site. The icon indicating he had a new message blinked at him on the upper right hand corner of the window. Taking a hasty swallow of whiskey spiked coffee, Michael opened the message.
Our mutual artist friend informed me that you were at the gallery opening. If you have time, I would like to meet to discuss his proposal. I will be at AfterHours at 4 pm Tuesday. Please, bring a pen. I would like you to sign the chapbook that you recently published. I have enjoyed it immensely.
Michael set the cup of coffee down on the coaster to the left of his keyboard. The cursor blinked in time with the beat of the Indian music that was playing loudly in the apartment below and filtering up through the floor. It took Michael a moment to realize that it was Tuesday and 3:45. He thought about avoiding the mystery man. The same bit of recklessness that had sent him to checking his messages had him finishing his coffee and grabbing his keys. He lived about fifteen minutes away from the coffee house. Slinging on his beaten leather jacket, Michael ran a hand through his hair before shutting the door and locking it.
He ran down the stairs, noting absent mindedly that the woman who lived below him was cooking something fragrant as he passed by her apartment. Michael was out the front door and walking briskly down the street when he considered if it would be easier if he took a cab. Deciding that finding a cab and spending the fare was more of a hassle then it was worth, Michael crossed the street. Over head the March sun shone brilliantly down on everyone.
Michael's copper colored hair caught the light and seemed to glow compared to the dull browns of the knot of people before him. One of the women stepped aside, allowing Michael to pass by. When he arrived at the door of the coffee house, he found an elegantly dressed tall blond man at the door. The thin man looked over at Michael and then stepped aside. With a graceful gesture, the blond man wearing a dove gray sweater motioned Michael to precede him in to the building.
I'm still not pleased with this but at least I'm moving this forward. And now, we've got something of a glimpse of what the protagonist looks like.